


Little Black Dress

by PrettyOkayGatsby



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Hallelujah, M/M, POG's A+ tags, Patrick Stump in a dress, boys doing the frickle frackle, cross dressing, lesbian writes gay porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-03 23:50:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyOkayGatsby/pseuds/PrettyOkayGatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick doesn’t understand how he gets himself into these types of situations.</p><p>Oh wait, yes he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Black Dress

Patrick doesn’t understand how he gets himself into these types of situations.

Oh wait, yes he does.

Because he is a pushover with a soft spot and a hard on for tattooed bassists.

He and Pete had been dating five months (together for five years) and he’s gotten more acquainted with women’s clothing than he was comfortable admitting. So he’s not really surprised (resigned would be a better word) when he walks into the bedroom to see Pete, sprawled and hard, with a shopping bag at the foot of the bed. “Please,” Pete said, “Patrick, please.”

And fuck Patrick has got to get better at saying no because his arms are picking up the bag and would you look at that he’s in the bathroom.

He drops the bag on the counter and unbuckles his belt and feels his heart begin to thump harder in his chest. He palmed himself as he unzipped his pants, feeling his cock begin to harden under his fingers as he dropped his jeans.

Next to go are his socks and shirt, which he kicks over in the general direction of the hamper impatiently before he’s peering into the bag.

It’s a very nice dress, he’ll admit, nothing extravagant like he expected but black and sleeveless and very soft, his calloused fingers catching on the lace as he pulled it on. There’s a quick moment of panic where he thinks it’s not going to fit, that it will rip before it slinks down his sides, tight around his chest and stomach to keep it up but loose around his legs.

He pulled the top up a bit more, adjusted it so it’s straight across his chest and walked out the door.

“Ta-da,” Patrick said and twirled on the heel of his foot, the dress swirling with his movements. Pete watched the brief flash of upper thigh hungrily, licked his lips when the material settled back down.

“Fuck,” Pete whispered in a strangled voice, “fuck, _Patrick.”_ He leapt off the bed, crossed the room in three wide steps and knelt before Patrick, taking a moment to rub his face on Patrick’s hip, his hands holding Patrick by the knees, pushing them apart. “fuck,” he muttered again and kissed the hemline. “your legs, spread your legs.”

Patrick did and watched, transfixed, as Pete pulled the dress up and let it fall over his head, licking at Patrick’s navel. “Pete,” Patrick moaned, “the bed-ah-” he squeaked, feeling sharp teeth nip far too close to his groin.

“No, I think we’re good right here,” Pete said, before he yanked down boxers. “Lift your left leg,” he commanded and hummed in satisfaction as the underwear dropped to the floor, nuzzling his head into Patrick’s soft thigh and painting it with strokes of his tongue.

“Pete,” Patrick said desperately, “Pete, _please._ ”

Pete licked up the hard line of Patrick’s cock and grinned at the strangled moan, running one hand up the dress to knead at Patrick’s ass. “How’s that feel?” he asked smugly.

“Feels like you’re not getting anything more unless we’re on that bed,” Patrick panted and took a tiny step back.

Pete groaned and pulled himself out of the dress, hit with a flash of cold air once away from the heavy material and Patrick’s body heat. He scooped the other up and tossed him onto the bed. Pete unbuckled his belt and let it fall with a loud clang, smirking as Patrick met his gaze. “Happy now?” he asked and peeled off his shirt.

“Very,” Patrick said, leaning back on his hands. “Now, come here.”

Pete laughed and obeyed, crawling onto the bed on all fours. Patrick smiled as Pete threw a leg over his before flopping down on top of Patrick, feeling the heat of his cock press against his bare stomach. “Hi,” Pete breathed as Patrick’s hands wandered down to play with the buttons of his jeans.

“Hi,” Patrick said, sliding the denim down Pete’s hips. Pete wriggled and kicked out his legs, sighing when they were free. “You’re such a dork,” Patrick snorted.

“Oh, way to ruin the moment, Stump,” Pete retorted.

“Me ruining the moment? That was all you, man, you and your,” Patrick squirmed to demonstrate, freezing and letting out a long, drawn out moan at the friction.

Pete groaned and tangled his hands in Patrick’s hair, rolling his hips down, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” he grunted, “Patrick, I need-please, Patrick just let me- _inside,_ Patrick, please I-”

“Yeah,” Patrick said, dazed, pushing back against him, the lace of his dress scratching against Pete’s stomach. “yeah, okay.”

Pete took a moment to kiss him, still giddy off the fact that he could do that now; he could kiss Patrick as much as he wanted without worrying about being pushed away. He traced the outline of Patrick’s lips with his tongue, ran it over the seam and swallowed his sigh. “I love you,” he said into Patrick’s mouth and felt the smile over his teeth.

Pete pulled away reluctantly, gave the inside of Patrick’s mouth a final lick and sat up, fumbling in the nightstand drawer for the tube of Wet, popped the cap and thoroughly coated his fingers. “Okay,” Pete said and bunched the dress up Patrick’s hips, admiring the sight of his erect cock and pretty bitten thighs. “here we go, tell me if you want to stop at any time.”

“Jesus Christ, Pete,” Patrick moaned, letting his head fall back against the pillows. “Just get inside of me already.”

Pete nodded, wriggled down Patrick’s body. “Yeah, okay.”

The first finger slid in easily, Pete moaning at the feeling _hottightfuckyes_ and Patrick whimpered, his hips pumping up on their own accord. “Are you okay?” Pete asked.

“Fine,” Patrick moaned, “another, please.”

Pete obliged, committing every moment to memory, the heave of Patrick’s chest, the feeling of the lace rubbing against his wrist as he thrust his fingers in and out. He sat up and pulled Patrick’s hips onto his lap, grabbed one leg by the ankle and placed it over his shoulder, pushed his fingers back in and kissed Patrick’s ankle.

Pete added his ring finger, searching for the spot again, grinned triumphantly when Patrick moaned, long and loud ( _God fucking bless singer’s lungs)_ and pressed down. “What is it, Patrick?” he teased, “what do you want me to do?

Patrick’s legs jerked and his hips came off Pete’s lap. Patrick bit down hard on his wrist, muffling a cry. “Again,” he hissed, fucking himself against Pete’s hand, “Pete, oh God, please, again.”

Pete obeyed, bent in half to kiss Patrick’s shoulders, hide his smile as Patrick whined.

Patrick’s normally a pretty quiet guy. Pete used to fantasize what he’d sound like during sex and (cute, quiet little grunts, soft moans and sighs whispered right into Pete’s ear) it’s nothing like he ever imagined. Patrick raked his nails down Pete’s back, screamed as three of his fingers pressed down on his prostate and spat out Pete’s name between growls for _more, more, more._

Pete can barely keep himself together, finds himself grinding hard against Patrick, his cock sliding against Patrick’s inner thighs as he sucked a hickey onto Patrick’s shoulder and fuck if Patrick’s not ready soon Pete’s going to come without ever being touched. He squeezed the base of his dick with his free hand, Patrick’s leg slipped off his shoulder as he uses his pinkie to circle his entrance, considers for a moment pushing that one in before Patrick sighed.

 “Pete, come on, Pete, enough, more,” Patrick groaned and yanked Pete’s head back by the hair. “Inside of me, now, come on.”

“Yeah,” Pete said, nodding quickly, “yes, Patrick, _please,”_ he’s still begging for everything he has even as Patrick spread his legs and Pete kissed him, mumbles thanks and praise because Patrick is letting him do this because Patrick loves Pete and Pete was pushing forward and _inside,_ inside of him and everything’s so fucking good, hot and tight and fucking wet around his cock that he almost collapsed on top of Patrick.

He wanted to move so badly, couldn’t help the twitch of his dick inside of him and the soft thrusts of his hips. Pete is lightheaded and breathless, feels like all the blood is rushing to his ears and cock because fuck, it’s so good and Patrick can feel Patrick relaxing around him, can hear him growling and making these little noises, better than the best album they could ever make, rocking his hips back and forth against Pete as he adjusted and fuck, Pete bit down hard on his own hand, feels the bone against his teeth and the pain kept him grounded until finally, finally, Patrick gasped, choked with pain,

“ _move.”_

And Pete should wait just a minute more, maybe pull out and stretch Patrick a bit better before continuing but he’s not the most patient person in the world and neither is Patrick and when he pushed his hips down on Pete’s he obeyed and _moved_ , slow, deep thrusts that made his head spin because it’s too much and not enough at the same time. He spat into his palm and grabbed Patrick’s dick, jerked it in sloppy time with his hips, swiped his thumb over the slit and squeezed.

Patrick pulled Pete down into a kiss, nipped his lip and pulled as Pete sat up, a twinge of pain running up his shoulders from the awkward position.

He flattened himself against Patrick, propped his upper body up with his arms, the position not the greatest for two men but it’s worth it as he greedily licked the _more, Pete, more, faster, harder, Pete, come on, fuck me, please_ from his tongue. Their teeth clacked together as Pete fucked forward, brushed against something that made Patrick cry out and wrap his legs around Pete’s waist. “There,” he demanded loudly, “right there!”

“Fuck, Patrick,” Pete said and did as he was told, “you’re so fucking gorgeous,” he babbled, “I love you, fuck, I love you so much. So fucking pretty, Patrick.” And it’s true, Patrick is the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen and Pete’s close, so close, can feel his orgasm burn hot in his belly and he’s not ready, not willing to come before Patrick. So he cheats, twists his hand and jerks Patrick off faster, speeds his thrusts, pounding Patrick’s prostate and fuck, he’s not going to last.

Patrick sobbed and arched his back, coming hard in Pete’s hand. He turned his head and bit down on Pete’s bicep, his teeth clenching and unclenching as he rode the waves, his hips jerking back onto Pete’s cock. Pete grunted as Patrick tightened around his cock and came, nearly blacking out as he painted Patrick’s insides with his cum.

“Fuck,” Patrick panted around a mouthful of skin and muscle. Pete pulled out and dropped his head on Patrick’s chest, panting hard as Patrick licked apologetically at the teeth marks he made. “Sorry,” he said.

Pete twisted his neck to see and shrugged. “It’s fine.” The area was bruised and throbbed but the skin wasn’t broken and he wasn’t too bothered. He turned his attention back to Patrick’s chest, nuzzled his face against the damp lace.

“This dress if fucking ruined,” Patrick said.

Pete snickered. “I’ll buy you another.”

“Seriously, I’m not putting this thing on again,” Patrick warned and struggled to unzip it. Pete rolled over to let him shimmy out of it. He leeched back onto Patrick once the dress is gone, wrapping his arms around his waist and sighing with content. “I love you,” he murmured.

“I love you too.”

“I’m thinking of springing for some thigh-highs next time. Maybe a corset. How about you?”

“Go the fuck to sleep, Pete.”


End file.
